


Sleepwalk This Way

by bestkeptsecret



Category: Glee
Genre: Dry Humping, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Sleepwalking, also slash if you squint, but like not really 'dry' whoops, non-con-ish?, wow these tags are just not helpful are they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestkeptsecret/pseuds/bestkeptsecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn sleepwalks. Puck likes to sleep in the nude. You do the math. [GKM Fill]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepwalk This Way

**Author's Note:**

> Set before Season 1. Cross-posted from my old FF.net account, which has now been deleted as this was written almost three years ago. GKM FIll, prompt as follows:
> 
> "Finn sleepwalks. Puck is spending the night and is sleeping in the guest room and he likes to sleep in the nude. Finn sleepwalks into the room and gets in bed with him. Puck wakes up to find an equally nude Finn laying on his back and humping his ass, with his cock rubbing in between his cheeks. It feels so good, he lets him finish with Finn coming on his ass."

It was common knowledge that Puck liked to wear as little clothing as possible—even at school more than one Cheerio had been shocked and subsequently intrigued when they spotted a flash of skin peeking out of his partially unzipped jeans (easy access, he called it, though only people like Santana took full advantage of that). Therefore, it made sense that while alone in his bed, he liked to ditch the clothes entirely and sleep in the buff; not only did it help him deal with his mother's stereotypical Jewish stinginess in regards to turning up the air conditioning between May and October, but it also meant he could be ready to rub one out whenever he wanted, without dealing with pesky boxer fabrics.

This habit pretty much carried over to wherever Puck happened to be sleeping, unless he was passed out on someone's couch (which rarely happened—the Puckster was a master heavyweight). It was often to the dismay of one Finn Hudson, who knew that every time Puck left one of his "gifts" on the guest room sheets his mother usually thought it was her own son sleepwalking into the extra bed and having one of his mailman problems.

In fact, nobody knew about Finn's routine nighttime strolls except for his family and Puck, who spent the night so many times his ears were practically attuned to the sound of Finn's bedroom door squeaking open at random hours of the morning. Finn had been undergoing therapy sessions recently once Ms. Hudson realized that a six-foot-three sixteen year old sleepwalking around the house was anything but safe, but so far it didn't appear to be doing any good. Puck would have slept in Finn's room with him to keep him from tripping or knocking his head on his ceiling, except, oh wait, Finn was the size of a small Redwood and his tinyass twin bed could barely fit him to begin with. And Puck was in no mood for sleeping on the floor after waking up one morning with Finn's enormous foot hanging over his face.

So, he had to settle for the guest bedroom, where he was currently lying on his stomach, nothing concealing his bare ass from the world except for one small quilt that he'd pulled over his waist area—you know, just in case Ms. Hudson came busting in on him for some early Saturday morning cleaning. But goddamn, Ohio got really fucking hot in July. Who knew?

The two guys had been out at a party for most of the night, so the immense amount of beer Puck had consumed probably attributed to his heavy sleeping —so heavy, in fact, that when his bedroom door slowly opened he didn't even stir. He hadn't shut the door all the way, both to let air flow through and so he could hear if Finn started sleepwalking again (that plus alcohol was always a dangerous combination), so perhaps that made it easier for Finn to make his way into the room, wearing nothing but his pair of Power Rangers briefs that were already pulled dangerously low over a noticeable bulge, revealing the beginnings of a dark, untrimmed bush.

Finn's tall frame was unsteady enough as it was, but the combination of alcohol and sleep made the boy's journey over to Puck's bed take considerably longer; he swayed occasionally with each step, eyes at half-mast and mouth hanging open. There was no sound except for the thud of his bare feet on the carpet, and the slight snoring coming from Puck's prone form. Somewhere in Finn's sleepy mind, he registered his best friend, and in an almost robotic fashion, staggered over to the bed, hands extended to guide him in place of his blank, out of focus gaze.

Puck made no move as Finn's hands found the mattress, and his palms, splayed across the comforter, moved around slowly and aimlessly until his fingertips found the bottom of Puck's foot. Almost intrigued, Finn's hand moved all the way across the rough sole and up over his heel to his ankle, and Puck giggled softly in his sleep, turning over onto his side to face away from Finn and pulling his feet closer. The single blanket he had covering himself fell off from the sudden movement, and Finn's hands continued to roam until they found Puck's foot again. His friend laughed again at the light tickling sensation of Finn's fingers on his calloused but surprisingly sensitive skin, but did not move his legs, allowing Finn's hands to move in an almost zombie-like fashion up Puck's bent legs until they found his waist.

Slowly using Puck for leverage, Finn pulled himself up and onto the bed, shimmying across the top of the comforter and not even noticing that his underwear was pulled down over his crotch and all the way down to his knees, revealing the impressive beginnings of a full-on erection. Looking for the familiar shape of his best friend, Finn pulled himself closer, lanky legs kicking back and forth to free his body entirely of his underwear, so that in the end he was spooning naked with the equally unclothed sleeping Puck, arms wrapped around Puck's shoulders while the shaft of his late-night hard on pressed against Puck's bare ass.

Puck, still out like a light, wriggled unconsciously closer to Finn, smacking his lips wetly and muttering, "Is...z'at fer me, Mrs. J...?" It wasn't until Finn began to slowly move his hips slowly back and forth, humping his ever-stiffening cock against Puck's behind, that his eyelids fluttered open.

"Wha..." was all Puck could articulate at first, until he registered the strong arms across his chest and the strange, sensation of Finn's penis rubbing in between his cheeks. "F-Finn?" he whispered, still a bit too drunk to fully comprehend what was going on. Puck turned his torso around, only to find himself staring head on into Finn's half-open eyes, drool hanging at the corner of his open mouth, entire face devoid of expression as his bucked his hips steadily against Puck's ass.

Was he...humping him? In his sleep?

"The fuck, dude?" Puck murmured, squinting in disbelief. Did that sleep therapy do nothing for him? He turned back around and pushed his arm back to shove Finn the sleep-sex offender away, but his friend was bigger than him, and it did nothing except get Finn to cling back to him with renewed force, hips moving in a rolling motion as his cock, now damp with precum, slid smoothly in between Puck's ass cheeks.

"Finn, get the fuck—ahhhfff..." Puck never got to finish his sentence, as the pressure of Finn's erection against his bare skin was enough to send waves of foreign pleasure rippling through Puck's body, a tingling warmth that started in his pelvis and spread all the way through every muscle. Shit, that feels good… he thought absently, scooting backwards up into Finn's groin so that his entire back was pressed up against Finn's front. This seemed to spur Finn on further as he continued his robotic motions with renewed vigor, causing Puck to tighten his muscles almost unconsciously as he hissed through clenched teeth.

As long as he doesn't stick his dick up my ass, it isn't gay, right? he said to himself, mind still fuzzy except for the physical satisfaction Finn was giving him. Shit, come to think of it, his best friend was probably just as big as he was; they'd seen each other naked in the showers before, but Puck had never felt the full force of his best friend's raw, untrained sexual energy until just now.

Hell, maybe he could just ride it out—it really did feel fucking amazing, after all, and Puck, who hadn't scored any sex since last weekend, could already feel his own cock grow hard as Finn grew dangerously close to penetrating him. It was just enough that he could feel most of the pleasure without any pain, and as it went on Puck began to wonder if maybe Finn's mailman problem happened while he was awake.

Puck's hand moved down to fondle his own instrument, which was already fully erect from his lack of stimulation over the past few days. Puck inhaled sharply as his cock jumped at the touch—combined with Finn pressing and sliding against him, it was almost too much. But he was Puckasaurus, and he came on his own fucking terms. He began to slowly press his own ass against Finn, testing to see how close they could get without it turning into full on sex; after all, he was still Puckzilla and he did NOT bat for the other team. But it still felt so fucking fantastic, that he had to move his right hand up and down his swollen cock, while his left hand simultaneously gripped his balls and fingered his red, dripping head. It was almost painful not to.

Puck gasped at the pleasing sensation, his heart pounding and his skin heating up, both from Finn himself and the physical ecstasy traveling up his groin. He was already sweating from the heat inside the small room, but full on beads began to form on his neck, dripping down against the pillows. He wondered if he was dreaming, if this all-consuming satisfaction surrounding his horniness was even real. Either way, he was in no mood for stopping.

It only took a few minutes before the soft, steady, burning sensation of Finn almost being inside him made Puck come, silver ropes shooting out across the patterned green spread. He wanted to relax, the catharsis already spreading through his body and softening his dick, but Finn was still going. Puck exhaled heavily, wondering if it was possible to stop being flaccid so quickly, but Finn came a few seconds later, semen spurting all over Puck's ass as he moaned in his sleep. Puck barely registered the warm stickiness; he simply shuddered briefly at the release, sinking down into the mattress.

Finn's grip around his chest did not loosen, however, and Puck's eyes suddenly shot open. They couldn't wake up like this, with jizz all over his ass and the bed—if Finn's mom walked in on that, they'd be fucked ten ways to Sunday. He had no idea what that meant, but it seemed ominous enough.

"Alright, jerkoff," Puck said, sitting up with an enormous grunt and pushing Finn off him, who shot up too, eyes staring blankly ahead and clearly still asleep. "Time to get your dick away from my ass for the rest of eternity." Throwing his legs off the bed, Puck grabbed Finn's underwear (using it to wipe his ass as his own form of personal revenge) and pulled his friend to his feet, throwing Finn's arm around his shoulder to help support him. Unfortunately, Puck was still somewhat tipsy, so guiding the sleepwalking lank down the hall to his room took a while, and by the time they finally arrived Puck was about ready to collapse himself.

Luckily, Finn crawled onto his bed without any struggle (he'd once socked Puck in the face after being woken up in the kitchen, mistaking him for a robber trying to kidnap him), but he apparently couldn't be bothered to pull the blankets over himself. He lay there, spread eagle across his bed, junk displayed for the world to see. Puck rolled his eyes and tossed Finn's underwear onto his crotch, heading back to the guest room.

Although his first thought was to convince Ms. Hudson tomorrow that Finn needed extra therapy sessions, as he fell onto his bed and succumbed into a relaxed, content slumber, Puck thought to himself that maybe...just maybe, that could wait.


End file.
